


Prove It

by NovemberDecember



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Approval Sex, Confusion, Drunk Blowjob, Drunk Sex kinda, Drunkenness, FaceFucking, Fear, Homosexual, Lust, M/M, Public Sex, SO MUCH WHISKY SIPPING, Why is it called a blowjob if youre sucking?, blowjob, drunk handjob, handjob, i used the word plump to describe testicles im sorry, lmao cole is such a fucking bottom dont argue, mention of prostitution, slightly racist slur sorry. it was the 40s tho yall understand, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 20:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13174821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovemberDecember/pseuds/NovemberDecember
Summary: (Takes place the night of the "The Consul's Car") Stefan decides that he's sick of those stupid street races. Truth is, he's had enough. He just wants to go get drunk at the Blue Room with Cole. And maybe get some drunken oral under the table.





	Prove It

**Author's Note:**

> aYE SO IM on christmas break and i've had the WORST case of writer's block due to no social interaction. (I NEED SOCIAL INTERACTION TO KEEP FUNCTIONING!!!!!) so i've finally just decided i need to get the fuck over it because im a woman (not strong or independent) who need to grow the fuck up and deal with my problems.

“ ’You fuck young boys, Valdez?’ is probably the funniest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, Cole, honestly.” Stefan laughed, sipping some of his whisky on ice, Cole offering a faint grin in return. “I mean… _Holy shit.”_ Stefan continued, smiling so brightly it almost blinded Cole. “You said it so casually, like it was nothing. I had to fight the urge to laugh, partner, really.” Cole couldn’t hold back. He chuckled, and sipped his whisky.

“I’m so pleased that my aggressive interviewing amuses you, Bekow.” Cole darted his eyes to the stage, watching the sax player really go at it. I mean, damn. It made Cole went to get up and dance. Not that he ever would. Especially in front of Stefan.

The young veteran darted his eyes throughout the lounge, nonchalantly scanning the patrons. There wasn’t many people here tonight; only a couple negroes in the back corner and an older couple dancing slowly to music on the dance floor. Though Cole considered himself a lone wolf, he secretly wished more people occupied the establishment. The more the better; it meant that woman would sing. She had the voice of an… No, not an angel- Something much more powerful than an angel. A mother, perhaps.

“Almost anything you do amuses me, my little caterpillar. You’re like a… Male escort.” Stefan slurred, slightly, if not obviously, under the influence.

Cole briskly curved his head to his partner, a look of horror on his face. Had he heard Stefan correctly?

“I’m a what, Stefan?” Cole asked, hoping Stefan would realize what he said and have some sort of explanation. Anything would be nice, really.

“You know, like a prostitute. But you’re a male kind.” Stefan shook his whisky hand in the air. Cole squinted his eyes at him agape. The younger man looked at him for a second before continuing.

“Ladies of the night are… Amusing. You’re amusing, Cole. You’re like an… Amusing lady of the night, but a man.” Stefan rose his almost empty glass of whisky to his lips and emptied the rest of the glass cup. “That’s the worst explanation you possibly could’ve come up with, Bekowsky. Jesus Christ, you called me a prostitute.” Cole rested his face in his hand, attempting to rub away his drunken and confused headache.  

“Oh, I didn’t call you a prostitute, you big baby. You know what I mean. I’m not drunk that!” Stefan chuckled at his little joke before calling over a waitress with the raising of his hand, ordering two more glasses of whisky on the rocks. The waitress walked away, returning to the bar. “Are you sure you should still be drinking?” Cole asked, frowning. “We finished a street race today. Yes. I want to drink, Cole.” Stefan placed his hand unfamiliarly close to Cole, who inched away from it. _“I want to drink, Cole.”_

“Yes, I heard you the first time, Stefan.” Cole moved back to his original space as Stefan’s hand retreated. The waitress set two whiskys in front of the men, and took her leave. “Anyways, about the prostitute thing, you’re too much of a prude to be a prostitute.” Stefan giggled and drank some of the auburn liquid.

Cole rolled his eyes and grabbed his whisky, taking a small sip before carelessly setting it back down to the table. The white tablecloth softened the thud of the glass, absorbing most of the blow for the wooden table. “How can I be a prude, Stefan? I’m married with two kids. I didn’t magically inseminate my wife.” Cole joked. Stefan laughed loudly as he did at the beginning of the regretful night. “Cole, you’re just a barrel of laughs tonight.” Another sip of whisky loosened Stefan’s tongue. “And what? You fucked once and she got pregnant with twins, congrats.”

Cole stiffened, seriousness running through his veins. “Don’t talk about my wife that way, Stefan.” He uttered, taking a large gulp of bourbon.

“See? You are a prude!” Stefan smiled again, ignoring the suddenly stern aura from Cole.

Cole groaned. “I’m not a prude!”

“Yes you are!” Stefan exclaimed, that dumb but adorable look on his face. Naivety? He picked up his glass, playing with it, spinning the liquid around like a tiny tornado.

Cole picked up his whisky glass and took a large drink before slamming it down to the table. Specks of brown landed on the once clean tablecloth. “No I’m not!”

Stefan jumped slightly before awkwardly placing his glass back on the table. “Then prove it.” He looked into Cole’s sea blue eyes.

Cole’s anger vanished before turning to the familiar feel of confusion, this time mixed in with something else. Fear? It’s most likely fear of the second feeling being lust, but whatever. Cole was too drunk to really notice at this point.

“Prove it?” He asked quietly. He took a small sip of whisky.

“Yeah.” Stefan took a deep breathe, and broke eye contact with his partner. “Rub me off under the table.” He state blatantly.

Cole sprang up suddenly, his face red. “I…! What? _W-What?”_  He asked.

“What do you mean, ‘What’?” Stefan squinted, his face washed with simplicity, as if he had asked Cole to breath. “I’m not asking for anything complex, Cole. Just get under the table and play with my cock. You can even suck it if you really want to.” Stefan took a swig of whisky, officially finishing his glass. “Christ, why would I do that? What even make you think I would do that?” Cole asked.

“Because you want to prove you’re not a prude. Come on, Cole. I know how much you love basking in the glow of approval. Get under the table.” Stefan coerced in a sweet voice he used rarely.

Cole finally decided he was too drunk to argue. He scanned the table, grabbing a silver salad fork. He eyed it for a moment before dropping it on the floor. “Whoops,” He said, and Stefan chuckled. Cole left his seat to go under the table, and shifted closer to Stefan’s crotch.  Cole couldn’t see himself, but he was pretty sure his face was bright red. He sighed, and reached out to Stefan’s pants’ zipper. As he pulled the zipper down, he noticed his hands shaking. Stefan obviously noticed too, because soon enough the younger man’s voice hit Cole’s ears.

“You doing alright down there, kid?” Stefan asked. “Y-yeah.” Cole answered bluffly before pulling the Pole’s cock out of his briefs. Stefan’s manhood wasn’t very long, but it made up for that in width. Pleasant, thick veins rain vertically up and down the shaft, from the tip to the plump, dark haired covered balls.

Cole ran his hand up and down, slowly and without rhythm. He knew this wasn’t turning Stefan on, but only because he was doing it the way Marie always did it. Cole removed his hand for a moment, taking a deep breathe, before replacing his hand to the preferred spot.

“You want some help down there, Cole?” Stefan asked disappointingly. “No, I got it.” Cole shot back.

Cole was going to make Stefan cum, but mostly at this point just to humiliate him. He wanted Stefan to be whimpering his name and moaning so loudly that everyone in the lounge’s eyes were on his partner.

Cole licked Stefan’s tip roughly, and without preparation. Stefan gasped slightly and jumped, obviously shocked. Good, Cole thought. This might be easier than thought.

Cole removed his mouth from Stefan’s cock, much to Stefan’s disappointment, and began stroking Stefan’s member to the sound of the music. The Blue Room had an effect where it made you want to have rough sex, for some reason, or at least Cole thought. His plan was to make Stefan think this also; to get in touch with the aura.

Stefan whimpered once again as Cole put the entire tip into his mouth, licking circularly on the cut flesh. Cole continued this for a minute or two; Stefan letting out erotic noises the entire time.

The older man’s plans were foiled as Stefan grew impatient of the teasing, finally placing his hand on the back of Cole’s head and pushing his shaft forcefully down his throat. Cole held back the powerful urge to gag, and accepted Stefan’s cock with each thrust.

Stefan pulled Cole’s head down, his fingers buried in Cole’s dirty blonde hair, barely hitting the back of his throat. Cole sat there void of emotion before finally settling on playing quietly with Stefan’s balls, taking the more larger part down his throat like a good little whore. Not a prude, like Stefan had said.

Stefan’s moaning and groaning grew louder through the lounge, before finally spilling his seed down Cole’s throat, who happily accepted and swallowed the cream. Other patrons looked over to the handsome young man, in confusion, but ultimately, ignored him and thought him to just be a crazy drunkard.

After a couple minutes, Cole drawled back into his seat. This time, the air in the Blue Room was sex, and Cole wanted more; Except, it was late, and Cole needed to get home to Marie. He pushed aside the thought and took a swig of whisky, clearing the salty taste out of his mouth.

Stefan reached over and took away the glass of whisky, and took a sip for himself.

“Well,”

Stefan began, a large smile on his face. His breathing was shallow from the shear amount of pleasure.

“I guess you’re not as much as a prude as I thought.”


End file.
